


Breaking

by LBibliophile



Category: Obernewtyn Chronicles - Isobelle Carmody
Genre: Becoming The Mask, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, split personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LBibliophile/pseuds/LBibliophile
Summary: What happens the day that Domick visits Mika at work, and it all falls apart...





	Breaking

Mika smiles in satisfaction as the soldierguards drag the man out of the room. It had been a good session. The man had started off so defiant, only to be whittled down until he was pouring out everything he knew; anything to make the pain stop. It is quite a skill, knowing how to break someone and reshape them; chipping away until they released their gems of knowledge. His masters had been surprised when they discovered how good he was at this job, but it was easy really, once you knew how people think, what buttons to press. _He_ had taught him that.

He runs through the session again in his mind as he starts to tidy up his tools. The actual information the man had yielded was nothing special; a few bits and pieces that his masters would be interested in but nothing that would bring _him_ out of hiding. That was often the case now. At the start, _he_ had watched Mika, using _his_ own methods to gain the particular information _he_ was searching for. Then Mika had gained in skill; discovered the pleasure of manipulating someone, having them at his mercy, teasing information from their mind. _He_ understood that.

The door opens and he turns as they bring in the next prisoner. Interestingly, they are preceded by a high ranking Herder, his face showing an expression of faint scorn as he gazes around the room. Mika sneers. No doubt he is used to more sophisticated facilities. The sodierguards drag the prisoner into the room and he turns his attention to study her. She is young, no more than twelve winters, with a thin face and long, now-tangled brown hair. It bothers him slightly that the next recipient of his attentions is a young girl, but he pushes the feeling aside; it is not the first time.

__Mika starts to step towards her and she looks up, her brown eyes matching his. Time freezes. In slow motion, he sees her expression change from fear to puzzlement to recognition. She opens her mouth and starts to speak._ _

__"Dom-" Before he realises what he is doing, Domick forces a probe through her shields, ruthlessly silencing her. The familiar touch of her mind is the last terrible confirmation._ _

His foot lands and time snaps back into place. He strides forward and grabs the girl's arm, taking her from the soldierguards. Exerting iron control, he turns to the Herder, his face and voice expressionless. "You may leave now."

The soldierguards turn to go but the Herder simply stands there, face revealing nothing. "I will remain. I have an... interest... in you results."

For a moment, Domick panics, half-formed plans collapsing to be replaced by growing dread. Then Mika shrugs, "very well, just stay out of my way."

Pulling the girl over to the special chair in the centre of the room, Mika notices that his hands are trembling. Frowning slightly at the unusual weakness, he forces them to steady, pushing aside the sense that _he_ is watching.

Ready, he turns to the Herder, standing just at the edge of the light. "What is it that has brought her to your lofty attention? What do you wish me to discover?"

The Herder smiles thinly. "That is none of your concern. I will ask the questions, your job is simply to ensure she answers them."

Smothering his annoyance, Mika moves back towards the girl. How he detests the Herders, always poking their noses where they are not wanted, always so sure that their work is of more importance than anyone else's. If they wanted to keep the subject to themselves, they should not have brought her to him. But a job is a job, and his is better than many.

Circling slowly around the girl, he dismisses the Herder from his attention. Her fearful gaze follows him, causing a familiar thrill of excitement to bubble up inside.

"It will go easier for you if you answer our questions. We have plenty of time and such an interesting range of unpleasant ways to convince you." Stopping beside a bench, Mika lifts one of the tools from it and turns it in his hands, caressing it. "There are so many things I can do with something like this, for example."

Domick looks at what he is holding, then, suppressing a shudder, returns it. "But perhaps you do not require such persuasion?"

The girl stares at him, mute with terror. Domick longs to reach out and comfort her but forces himself to remain still, hiding his inner turmoil behind a cool facade.

Dragging his focus back to the job at hand, Mika reaches for another tool. Holding it up, he examines it speculatively then glances sideways at the girl, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile of anticipation. "Or perhaps something like this would better serve our purposes?"

Only half-aware of what is happening, Domick's mind races furiously. There must be something that he can do, some way that he can prevent what he knows is coming. There is only one solution. It will not save her, but it can take her beyond the reach of pain. Domick shapes a coercion probe, preparing to enter her mind and wipe it clean, removing all awareness and memories and personality. He reaches the probe out, gently touching the edges of her shield then pulls back, cursing silently. He has forgotten the Herder. The Herder who will surely notice something is wrong, who will be on the lookout for any sign of misfit powers. He can't risk it; not yet. Domick feels sick as a savage grin spreads across Mika's face. He knows what he must do; he will have to break her.

In despair, Domick begins to withdraw once more when he makes the mistake of looking at her face, seeing the fear in her eyes. A series of memories flash through his mind - the same face but younger, smiling and laughing - and he halts his retreat. He might not be able to save her from the pain, but he'll be damned if he is going to allow Mika to enjoy it!

The next hours do not pass in a blur.

Instead, each moment is branded, clear and sharp-edged, into Domick's memory. Every scream, every cry; tearing through him as he helplessly watches Mika skilfully ply his trade, her tears burning his soul like acid. He longs to hide, to pretend that he does not know, drawing a blanket of unseeing around his mind as he has done before. But not this time. Even if he can do nothing else, he will witness, he will acknowledge what is done. And he will wait for his chance to free her.

As another scream tears from her throat, Mika's smile fades. This is usually the part he enjoys most. His victim, brought almost to the breaking point, teetering on the edge while he stands ready to give them the final push. The joy of holding their life and sanity within his grasp. He snarls inwardly at the hovering presence. But not today, not her. Not with _him_ staring over his shoulder, twitching and flooding him with guilt!

At last, Domick can stand it no more. He releases a wave of coercive force, sending it crashing towards the girl. Her shields shatter beneath the onslaught, the pain lost amidst her greater agony, and he forces his way in. The wave sweeps inexorably through her mind, washing away all memory, all sense, all pain; freeing her at last to join the peace of the mindstream. Freed as well, Domick flees, withdrawing his awareness.

Sudden silence echoes through the chamber.

Mika fumes with annoyance as the girl's body goes limp, silently cursing _his_ weakness. Bad enough that _he_ had been watching and draining all satisfaction from his work, but to have _him_ interfere like this... Mika glares icily at the mindless body. It is not even just that _he_ had ended the session early and lost the chance for more information. _He_ had taken from him the sweetest moment, that fleeting instant of total surrender when the last kernel of will crumbles and she becomes his. _He_ had taken that, and _he_ will pay.

"You incompetent fool." Mika's head snaps around, the watching Herder all but forgotten until now. "You pushed her too far. Perhaps you are not such a skilled technician as I was lead to believe."

Mika spits another silent curse at _him_ – he is proud of his skill – then replies smoothly, "Despite appearances, the human mind is a complex thing. Working with a mind is like working with flawed stone, the cracks can be used to help shape it, but hit a hidden fissure at the wrong angle and the whole thing shatters." Mika studies the Herder for a moment then takes a risk. "It is unfortunate, but without being able to directly see the shape of the mind, it happens."

"I have no time for riddles without results. You are clearly unable to successfully provide a simple service, I shall advise my brethren in future to go elsewhere." Gathering his robes, he stalks out of the room, only the door's heaviness preserving his dignity and preventing it from slamming.

Mika curses aloud, but with less venom than his previous silent ones at _him_. It is not as though the Herders and the Council are on good enough relations for the Herder's opinions to be a risk to his job, and fewer grey-robes coming in and pestering him can only be to his advantage. Carefully cleaning and putting away his tools, he turns his mind to a more important observation. Before the Herder had left, he had seen the tiny relaxation in his body language that showed that he had accepted his explanation, had put aside any thoughts of obstruction or, worse, Misfit powers. A faint chill runs through Mika and he thanks Lud that his gamble paid off. Safer to be thought a fool by one Herder than to experience his own trade from the other perspective. Giving his tools a last check, he exits the room, leaving the now-useless body for the soldierguards to dispose of.

Walking through the streets of Sutrium, Mika sees the dark bulk of the safehouse ahead and smiles in amused satisfaction. Never before has he come so close. Always in the past _he_ has taken over, pushed him aside as soon as possible and buried him in the depths of _his_ mind until his mask is once more needed. But not tonight; tonight, _he_ hides curled in the dark sobbing, while Mika is the one to walk through the gate. Light leaks under the kitchen door and he imagines Kella, _his_ so-sweet bondmate, and demonstrating to her all the skill he has learnt. That would be a session to savour. And _he_ has already done so much of the preliminary work, leaving her tantalisingly fragile in both mind and heart...

With a strangled cry, Domick collapses to his knees in the middle of the darkened courtyard, desperately forcing Mika back to the far reaches of his mind. Mika's mocking laughter echoes in his mind and he flinches, recognising the truth in his last words. The thought of Kella stabs his heart like a knife; he is destroying her even as he tries to save her.

Once, it had been so simple; they loved each other, so they defied guild tradition to be together. They had been children then, as all at Obernewtyn were – and in many ways still are – children. But children must grow up. As an adult, now, there are no easy answers. He needs her there; needs her love and strength, the reminder of what he is fighting for. She is his tether amidst the corruption and deceit of the Councilcourt, a symbol of all that Obernewtyn stands for. She is what separates him from Mika. Yet at the same time, he needs to protect her. To stop her from trying to heal what is too much to fix. To shield her from the pain and darkness within the city; within himself. He needs her there and needs her gone, and the conflict is tearing him apart.

Slowly, Domick climbs to his feet and walks the last few steps to the door. He hesitates for a moment, hand on the knob, then forces himself to enter. Walking into the kitchen is like walking into a different world. Warm firelight fills the room with a welcoming glow and the smell of fresh-baked bread wafts enticingly through the air. Standing by the table Kella turns, her lips rising into a smile of greeting. She steps towards him, lifting her hands in welcome but he flinches away, avoiding her touch. Mumbling excuses, he tries not to see the hurt in her eyes, the way her smile becomes brittle and hard. Worse is the acceptance. The lack of surprise that shows she expected his reaction despite their past and her continued devotion. Awkward silence fills the room, the cold within him draining away the warmth.

With a loud hiss, a pot on the stove starts to boil over and Kella moves to tend to it, releasing him. Escaping to the corridor, Domick feels as though a lump of ice is buried deep within his chest. He hates himself for the way he is hurting her, but she doesn't understand. How can he touch her, knowing what his hands have done, even under another's instruction? How can he look at her when he feels Mika's hungry gaze through his eyes? How can he be near her with this monstrous creature inside him, straining to be free?

Finding himself outside the bathing room he enters, heading straight to the basin. There, he soaps and rinses his hands, scrubbing frantically, trying to remove the sense of clinging filth. In his mind he hears again the girl - the girl; he will not think her name - screaming, pleading. Then he looks down and it is not her but Kella beneath his hands, her beautiful face twisted with pain. Gasping, he reaches for Mika to force him back but he is not there, still trapped in his corner of Domick's mind. It is only him.

Domick looks down at his hands - not Mika's hands, his - forever stained with the blood of an innocent. How can he touch her? He shakes his head. No, it is too late for him, only she can be saved. She must leave, return to Obernewtyn where she is out of Mika's reach, safe among children. But how can he make her leave? He can see already how when faced with his rejection her love and Talent drive her to try and heal him, blinding her and bringing her ever closer to danger. How can he force her away? Slowly, it comes to him, his last chance, the only way that has worked before: to save her, he must destroy her. The image of a girl's mindless body in a cell fills his mind.

In the mirror the face shifts slightly, the eyes growing cold, the mouth lifting in a gloating smile. Mika.


End file.
